The Land of What Might Be
by tsohg-a-ma-i
Summary: The beginnings to fics I might publish. It's worth a look. Fandoms so far include Naruto and Kingdom Hearts. Will probably be updated regularly, since I get a lot of ideas. The trouble is knowing which ideas to commit to and which to leave alone. That's where you come in. If I get a lot of good feedback on an idea, I WILL publish it and make an effort to update :)
1. It's a Long Way Back Home

**It's a Long Way Back**** Home**

"Argh—goddammit!" I curse at my latest injury, courtesy of a blown circuit. I've had worse, but the same can't be said about the circuit. Completely fried. It'll have to be replaced. And who's going to have to replace it? That's right. Me. I let out a long suffering groan, and my forehead slams against the gadget littered worktable as frustration and sleep deprivation conspire and finally make me lose the will to keep it upright. I'm long past due for new materials, and do you have any idea who I have to ask for them? No? Yeah, you don't want to. Let's just say my boss is a little less than understanding.

After a long moment of trying not to cry, I find it in me to lift my aching bones out of my work chair and begin to drag myself towards the door, but stop as I notice the tremor in my burnt hand as I reach towards the knob. It's not from the wound though, and I close my eyes briefly, mentally criticizing myself for the hesitance but I do it so often that the scalding words are like a chorus in my head—solid, familiar, a ringing that I can just barely hear anymore. But it's enough, and I change my course for my adjoined living quarters, headed straight for the bathroom. If I'm going to do this, I'm going in armed, and mentally prepared.

After washing my face raw until there's finally some color in my pallid cheeks and I'm as awake as I can possibly be—nothing I can do about the massive dark circles—I glare at my reflection sternly. "You can do this. You've done it before. It's not that hard. Don't let him walk all over you. He might be the boss, but you're indispensable, and he knows it." I pause and my glare falters as I take in the feeble looking girl in the mirror. "I can be intimidating..." With another once over, and a long sigh, I can't lie to myself anymore. I'm as ready as I can possibly be.

After fixing the disaster that is my hair, customarily consisting of two long, fire brick red pigtails, I head towards the door with as much purpose in my stride as I can muster—in other words, I have to force every step and resist the urge to go hide somewhere. I pause at the door again, and take a deep breath before reaching towards the knob and—the door is nearly thrown open on top of me. Good thing I've learned to be quick on my feet during the last couple of years, otherwise it would've smashed my face in.

As it is, I'm left standing there in a fight or flight stance, gaping at the boy in the doorway until I blurt out, "What the fuck, Kimimoro!? Knocking! That's a thing, you know! What if I was naked!?"

His odd colored eyes, impassive as ever, scan me with blatant disinterest and answer my question for me. No doubt, absolutely zero fucks would be given. We both know it. And so the implication, and any unnecessary banter is compartmentalized, and promptly ignored in favor of getting to the point. You can say it's the only quality about Kimimoro that I actually like. "We're going to war."

I blink, once, twice, then reply faintly with an unintelligent, "...Oh." There's a long silence where the two of us just stare at each other until the creepiness seeps in and I blurt out, "Well, what happens now?"

He briefly eyes the room behind me, dim, and cluttered with snakelike wires tangled upon the floor and taped to the walls, half assembled devices, and computer screens blinking out of the darkness...then they flick back to me, with my bruise-like dark circles, and clothes that hang on my frame like sacks. After a pause he notes, "You've been working hard for Orochimaru-sama all this time, haven't you, Ming? You've done well."

My brow arches at the suspicious praise and I remark dubiously, "You know just as well as I do that I'm just out for myself. Orochimaru can have whatever he wants from me as long as I get what I want. That's always been the condition, so don't make it sound like I'm here because I want to be..."

His eyes seem to flash for a second, and it reminds me just how dangerous he can really be. Just because he's not allowed to kill me, doesn't mean he can't be a royal pain in the ass if he really puts his mind to it. Something's got him acting weird—different from the pretentious dick he normally is—and I don't like it. It puts me even more on edge when he says in a quiet voice, "I'm sorry to hear that..."

Finally, I narrow my eyes and demand, "Cut the shit. The Kimimoro I know isn't one to 'dance' around the subject. You're not acting normal. So either dispel the illusion, tell me what the hell you want, or get the fuck out. Whatever the case, make it quick, because I've got to go ask Orochimaru for more materials and he's not going to be happy about it. I've got no time to deal with you on top of it, Kid." By the end of my little spiel I realize I'm shouting, and I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose with frustration. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scream at you. It's just...my deadline's coming up quicker than I anticipated—"

"All deadlines are on hold for the time being," he tells me abruptly. "All Orochimaru-sama's projects are being put on pause, and all expenses are being put towards the war effort. Therefore asking for more materials will be useless."

"Oh," I say again, quieter this time. "Well, thanks for the heads up, I guess... But again, that doesn't seem like you." I eye him suspiciously. "What does he expect me to do in the meantime?"

"That's not his problem," he answers in reply.

"So, what? You're saying I'm fired?" I throw up my hands in frustration. "Well that's just great! How the hell am I supposed to get home now?!"

He gives me a look that seems to indicate the normal amount of fucks he gives about anything which is, again, absolutely zero. But then he speaks in that toneless voice of his, robotically, in a way that makes me stop dead in my endless pacing. "Orochimaru-sama has left it up to me to decide what to do with you."

I stare at him blankly, a fist tightening around my heart. "...What do you mean 'decide what to do with me'?"

He stares back just as blankly. "It means that you're too much of an asset to be left on your own. Since you are useless in a war, and can't do anything but take up resources until it's over, it means that you have very few options left to choose from at the moment."

Still frozen solid, I murmur, "...What options?"

"Option one," he recites mechanically, "find a way to become useful."

After a long moment of silence, I whisper, "...What's option two?"

His eyes are impossible to read, giving me nothing as he makes the fatal declaration, "I kill you." After a suitable pause in which all color drains from my face, he states in a tone that could almost be pleasant, "You have thirty minutes to change my mind." At which point he turns and walks soundlessly down the hall like a ghost until I can no longer make him out in the dim light.

* * *

**Let me emphasize the point that this story is NOT meant to be an OC/Kimimoro fic. Their relationship is 'interesting,' but it is not a pairing. Just thought I'd let you know before you start fangirling. **

**This scene takes place at least two years into the series, after Ming and her three brothers get warped to the Narutoverse and consequentially separated, scattered each to different corners of the continent. If I continue it's going to be updated in non-time-specific fashion, and fluctuating between points of view between the siblings Ming (aka Hanah-Ming Lee), Tobi (aka Toby Lee), Kou (aka Cody Lee), and Kai (aka Kyle Lee). So, for example, while this chapter will be all about 'Ming,' (age fifteen) two years into the plot, the next chapter will be all about Kyle (age ten), and it takes place two years prior to the first chapter, explaining all about how they got dimension warped. Incidentally, Kyle is obsessed with the Naruto series prior to the warp, Hanah-Ming is obsessed with electronics and gadgets and taking things apart, Toby, the second oldest, is obsessed with Call of Duty, video games, and blowing shit up, and Cody, the oldest, is a silent rebel type-always in trouble for reasons no one can tell-and likes older women, but has shit luck with romance and life in general.**

**So, there's the rundown. Tell me if you want me to continue.**


	2. Lucky Thirteen

Hi

**LUCKY THIRTEEN**

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**Fandom: **Kingdom Hearts

**Summary: **I was that quiet kid—you know, that loner who sits in the back of the class, who's always in trouble for reasons no one can quite explain. Nobody knew me; they didn't even know my real name. Everyone called me Thirteen, cuz it was all just dumb luck, you know? Or the lack thereof in this case. Because as the world is ending...guess to whose job it is to save it. Yeah...lucky me.

* * *

**PREFACE**

I've always hated math.

Numbers in general, really.

The seats are numbered. The houses are numbered. The precincts are numbered… _People_ are numbered. Everything can be stripped down to nothing and given a number. I _hate_ it. But then…such is life. Well, _my_ life, that is. This was before I found out about the other worlds, mind you. Well, we all _knew_ there were other worlds, but we didn't really _know_, you know? No? Never mind. You wouldn't get it.

I guess I should probably explain some stuff first, huh?

Alright then. Listen up. Imagine a world based entirely upon luck. Yes, luck. Lots'a people I've met off-world don't think much of it. But here? In my home? It's a real, working currency. You live off munny? People here live off luck. They say you're born with a certain amount—some better off than others. Not much different from most off-worlders, really. You're either born lucky, or ya ain't. And that's the sad truth of it. Those with shitty luck end up in the shitter, and those more fortunate folks end up with their butts on golden toilette seats. Again, some people are born more lucky than most. And, naturally, the folks with more luck tend to live longer. It wasn't unheard of for those exceptionally lucky to keep kickin' for maybe even hundreds of years.

Sometimes you get that occasional lucky bastard with the stuff pouring out his ears. These births are celebrated, as these little grubs grow up to be our heroes, leaders, and, more commonly, celebrities. They're spoiled rotten, and people cozy up to 'em, 'cause luck tends to rub off, ya know? Good stuff happens around them on principle. Most of 'em are good enough, I s'pose, for spoiled rich kids at least. They all have the annoyingly bad habit of having hearts of gold…

Then you get people like me.

Sometimes, on especially unfortunate days, like, say, I dunno, Friday, December thirteenth—thirteenth year of the new millennia and a leap-year to boot (though that doesn't really have anything to do with it)…sometimes a kid gets born that wasn't s'posed to. Ya see this kid, is the natural counterpart of those lucky bastards. They get born with all the luck…and this kid gets born with the total amount of _Zero_. Yes, Zero, with a capital 'Z,' cause that's what we call 'em—Zeros. There are about a handful of 'em in existence, since most of them die before they're even born, and even if they are, and their poor parents don't drown them out of pity, they don't get very far even after all that.

See, Zeros are actually pretty dangerous. Not dangerous in themselves, no, but cause of all the nasty shit that happens around 'em. Remember the lucky bastards? How their luck sorta just permeates the air around 'em and rubs off on everyone? Zeros do the opposite. If anyone normal comes around, their luck suddenly gets sucked right out, like the Zero is some kind of walking wind tunnel of misfortune. Those lucky bastards we were talking about are the only ones who can _survive_ being in the same room as a Zero—which might have been the reason I was put in a special class with them.

As for me…I was the only Zero that had ever lived passed the ripe age of ten. So, really, despite what everyone else said about the slashed number sewn as a red warning sign on all my clothing, I considered myself pretty damn lucky. It takes a pretty unique mind set to be me, so it shouldn't have come as a big surprise to anyone that my thought process was more than a little out of the ordinary. Unlike most Zeros…I accepted my lot in life. Bet you're itchin' to find out how.

Simple.

I don't believe in luck.


	3. ZERO

_So, I'm practicing with present tense. It's a little bit hard to switch back and forth. First person narrative is my normal default, so I'm really out of my element here. Anyway, this is kind of a cool idea I've had for a while now. Might get around to actually publishing it someday if people show interest. Fem!Naruto isn't exactly original, but I like to try and mix it up a bit. (There's also a guy Sakura! Renamed Zakurai. Not in this chapter, but definitely going to be an interesting twist on things in the long run). Add in some reincarnation mojo, a former ambitious art freak, a fatalistic narcissist, and things tend to get a little interesting, yeah?_

_**See story notes at the end if things get a little confusing. CTRL + F [*]**_

* * *

**.:ZERO:.**

**Chapter 1: It's Only the Beginning**

She keeps looking out the window, wanting so badly to grasp at the freedom it offers so tantalizingly, like when an older kid once dangled her favorite stuffie toy just out of her reach and then cruelly tossed it up on one of the roofs when he got bored.

She wants to _break_ the window.

But it's the first day of school. The old man made her _promise_ not to cause trouble for anyone. He might not be the most…_present_ adult in her life, but Nana understands. He's got a big job, being Hokage and all. Can't be easy on an old guy. And when it comes down to it, he's the only ally she's got. A good one too, when he can find time for her. And he _does_ try. She knows he does. That's why she tries to make it easier on him, best she can. Who knows? Maybe if she can be good, and not cause trouble…he'll find some more time.

Time.

It used to not have so much of a meaning for her. But when one life ends, and another begins…you find yourself cherishing things a little bit more than you did the first time around, she learned. You never know what you have until something comes along and violently rips it all out from under your feet. And nobody understands this quite so intimately as the messy red-headed girl looking so longingly out the window…

But what is she looking for?

Her stormy violet eyes take in the cold, stone eyed features of the carved faces in the mountain, lingering longest on the last in the row of four, scrutinizing it thoughtfully through a narrowed, analytical gaze—_too_ deep and calculating for any _normal_ eight-year-old—before her eyes fall, dark, and sullen, back to the desk in front of her… Nana's heart can't help but feel…_heavy_. It knows, yet it doesn't know. It still _feels_, defying logic. The man depicted in the effigy is her father and not her father. This she knows…and she does not know.

Perhaps she could begin to make sense of it all were the man still alive. Perhaps not. As it is, she will never know. She will not know his reasons, or his purpose. She will never know what drove him, nor his odd idiosyncrasies, or anything else that subtly contributed to the life she has now _because_ of him—of what he did to save her—thrust into this world without any explanation, or even a care, or a reason, and no one there to help her pick up the pieces of a broken life, broken thoughts, broken memories that scream _none of this is supposed to be real_—

Nature—because that's what it _has_ to be, she _refuses_ to call it anything like divine intervention—has a viciously peculiar way of operating, she thinks… Like lightning, for instance; they say it never strikes twice in the same place…

They _lied_.

"Hey, isn't she _that girl_?" A voice adjacent and towards the rear of the classroom reaches her sensitive ears.

"That's _Naruto_…" another girl whispers back with a hint of disdain. "My mom says to stay away from her. She's got some freaky _disease_ or something…"

Nana's hands clench subtly, and she tries to block out the whispers as well as she can the drone of the instructor's voice. It doesn't work. It never works.

"What kind of name is _Naruto_ anyway?" another one giggles. "I mean, what were her parents _thinking_?"

"I heard she hasn't _got_ any—"

Nana clears her throat loudly. Then again…eight-year-olds don't exactly pick up on the subtleties of social cues. The giggles and whispers continue, of course, and Nana wishes she could sink away under her desk and never be seen again. Either that, or throw something large and heavy at them, but then, as children, that would entice them to throw something _back_. Nana _promised_ not to cause trouble today…

The first day of school is looking to be about as promising as her _first_ first day of school did. Nana always hated school, even when her name wasn't Nana, and the teachers _weren't_ planning on slowly brainwashing them and training them how to kill people. Well…maybe the brainwashing part sort of comes with the territory, but _still_…they could at least _try_ to be more subtle about it.

To block out the giggles, Nana tries to listen to what 'Sensei' is explaining, but her eyelids quickly droop in boredom. It's all stuff she knows already—from first grade. This is almost physically painful to sit through. Sighing, she lets her eyes slide the rest of the way shut and lays her head down in her arms on the cool, flat surface of the desk in front of her, breathing in the stale air left in the hollow within for a bit before growing tired of it and turning to look out the window again. She frowns a bit when she hears the noise of the classroom die down bit by bit, and sits up when she realizes Sensei has stopped talking.

"Naruto, would you like to join the rest of us in the waking world?" he drones in an unimpressed tone.

She blinks at him. "I wasn't sleeping."

"Uh-huh." He doesn't believe her. She can tell. No one ever does. "Just know that if you don't pay attention, you won't know how to do the homework. And if you don't turn it in, you won't be passing my class."

Wordlessly, she slides a collection of worksheets that were handed out earlier across the table towards him. She'd mostly done them because she was bored. It just seemed like games. She didn't know it was supposed to be homework. What kind of teacher hands out homework on the first day anyway?

The instructor whose name she hasn't really committed to memory yet eyes the completed assignments cynically, scoops them up after a frozen second, and surveys them more carefully. His eyes narrow, glinting resentfully at her, then back at the papers, and his lip looks like it wants to curl into a frustrated snarl. Then, slowly, deliberately, he taps the papers into a neat stack, lifts them up to eye level with both hands, and rips them into even halves…again…and again…and again. The tearing of paper in the silent classroom sounds more like a bomb going off…or at least it does to Nana.

When the worksheets Nana finished are nothing more than confetti pieces, the instructor drops them in front of her frozen face to scatter all over her desk and the floor. Then he announces loudly to the class, "Homework is to be done _at_ _home_. Understood?" When the class as a whole announces an affirmative, Sensei smiles kindly, and turns it just as kindly on Nana. "You can take a _zero_ for today, Naruto." The giggles started up again, '_Zero!_' 'She's a _Zero!_' And as he turns, he adds casually, almost in a friendly tone, "Oh, and, don't leave until you've picked up every scrap of paper, okay?"

Nana looks into Sensei's pale, condescending blue eyes for a long, hateful moment in which she commits his face to memory and tries to convey all the indignant rage welling within her with a single, blank stare. And then she answers in a calm, even tone, "Sure thing…Sensei."

By the next day, the name 'Zero' has gone viral.

Nana sits through class, and then turns in the homework she went to great pains to tape back together. She didn't mind the task so much. She has a great amount of time on her hands, after all, in which she is largely ignored by everyone, and scorned by the rest. She's been forced to become quite creative in order to fill this time. But she doesn't mind that too much either. She's always been artistic, after all, even in the before life, she remembers. Taping the homework back together reminded her of the colorful collages she used to make. And since the worksheets were already completed, she decided to add a little something extra, just for Sensei…

Later that evening, after Sensei checked the homework, she finds herself seated across the desk of one disgruntled old man, puffing on his pipe, staring down at the very detailed depiction of a gory murder scene painted in vivid shades of red on the back of her reconstructed homework. The victim looks uncannily familiar… He takes another drag off the pipe before filling the room with the exhaled smoke. She winces, and looks down at her lap, swinging her feet somewhat forlornly from the too-high chair.

"Nana-chan…" He says her name like a long suffering sigh.

Nana doesn't look up, or say anything. She'd been taught not to apologize if you didn't mean it.

He turns her artwork around and slides it back towards her for inspection. He questions her softly, "Is this the sort of thing we wish on our neighbors? Our teachers? Our comrades?"

Again, Nana stays silent, but looks up slowly from her lap to stare at him pointedly. Her blank, unrepentant gaze, coupled with a stubbornly locked jaw is telling. The Hokage sees many things. He can see much anger in her tensed form, like wound up string, knotted and tight. Her eyes tell him many things too, for he's known her since she was born. He's also known several hardened warriors in his time. Her eyes have that look about them… The look of someone who's about to snap.

It catches many off guard, because normally you'd expect someone unstable to _look and act_ unstable. This, he's found, is often times not the case. It starts with small, rather unsettling signs that you can pick up on if you're quick enough. You need to watch for the build up. Sometimes, if you're observant enough, you can see it when the pileup gets to be too much…and the bowed back finally breaks. Luckily, there are several key points where a well-meaning individual can intercede, and prevent the worst from occurring. On the other hand…most people just aren't that observant.

When the old man looks into the girl's eyes…all he sees is the beginnings of lackadaisical apathy.

He decides something will need to be done. Quickly.

"You're being transferred out of Hakkaku-sensei's class."

"Oh," she says. "So that's his name." She pulls out a red crayon and writes it on the paper in jaggedy katakana*—a custom in Konoha, though not always followed, so as to protect identity and not give anything away about any specific clan with certain commonly used kanji*—next to the body. She gives it another once over, nods, satisfied, and sets it back on the desk. She looks back at the old man, eyes slightly brighter, and asks with a surprising amount of optimism—which he immediately distrusts, "…When do we start?"

* * *

When Nana is transferred through five more classes, she is once more seated across from the old, tired Hokage. He lets out a longsuffering sigh that seems to fill up the room like the smoke from his pipe. Finally, after a the long, drawn out silence between the two—Nana never spoke first, out of politeness—he says in a resigned, matter-of-fact inflection, "This is it, you know. Your last chance. You lose your temper one more time, Nana, and you're out. No more ninja."

She shrugs silently with her hands on her knees, studying her scraped knuckles idly while swinging her legs back and forth absentmindedly as if in a day dream. "I don't even know if I want to be a ninja, tell ya the truth, Ojii-chan… It's just something to do."

Curious, he indulges her, "Is there something _else_ you'd like to do?"

She shrugs again. "Not much else I _can_ do, is there? No one will want me to work for them. I think half the people here are convinced I'll give them rabies or something…"

He chuckled good naturedly, shaking his head. "You don't have rabies, Naruto…"

"No," She returned his smile with a grimdark smirk. "but I've definitely got _something_ in me people aren't generally fond of…" She answered his fading smile with an apologetic shrug. "Not that much of a secret, ne? It's not that hard to figure it out."

Her confession is met with a loaded silence. Then, "…How long have you known?"

"I knew a while ago, actually. You just always seemed so busy…it never came up, ya know?" She shrugs again. The old man's eyes darken with a sort of emotion she can't define. "I mean, I always knew there was something messed up going on, but I didn't _know_ know until you talked me into the whole academy thing. Figured I should study up on some ninja stuff beforehand, to get an edge, yeah?" To her, this sounds perfectly reasonable. "So I sorta picked up a book on basic handsigns and general knowledge at the library…in the, uh…non-classified section, of course." She rubbed her neck sheepishly, as the Hokage gave her a knowing look. She moves the conversation along quickly. "So yeah! There was this whole section on how to focus on chakra which was pretty interesting, so, uh… I tried it out. That's when weird stuff started happening."

At her nervous silence, the old man presses her with a hard voice. "What _happened_, Naruto?"

"Turns out, there's a giant, raging nine-tailed fox sitting in my Hara*. And he's got issues with claustrophobia." She rubs her belly thoughtfully. "How does he even _fit_ in there…?"

The Hokage fights the urge to cover his eyes in exasperation. This is serious. "Naruto…if the seal in your hara were ever to be lifted, do you have any idea what devastating destruction could be unleashed?"

"I know." She nods very solemnly. "He says he'll eat everyone. Can't say as I blame him too much. It can't be very comfortable being squeezed into someone else's hara. He's extremely unhappy. And people haven't been very nice to him over the years. I can relate." She patted her belly again. "Poor Kurama."

"Kurama?" The old man blinks, mystified. "You've given it a name?"

She looks at him reproachfully. "_I_ didn't give it to him. Old man Hagoromo did."

"…Hagoromo?" He wracks his memory for a moment, then shakes his head, even more befuddled than before. "The Great Sage? That story isn't widely spoken of in today's generation. Its interpretations are extremely esoteric in nature. Where did you hear of such a legend? Surely not in the _library_…" His tone is oddly accusing.

"It's _not_ a legend, according to Kurama," Nana returns. "I'm inclined to believe him. He doesn't seem the type to lie to little kids. Eat them? Admittedly, yes. Lie? No. He's too proud to lie."

Still floored by this new information, the old man affirms, "I take it you have conversations with the beast often, then?"

She shrugs noncommittally. "He's about the only one besides you who will actually _have_ a conversation with me as opposed to shouting names or insulting me when they think I can't hear them. So that's a step up from most humans in my opinion. At least he's got a _reason_ to hate everyone."

"Naruto…" he starts cautiously, "you need to be extremely careful. No matter what sort of promises the kyuubi—"

"Kurama," she corrects him regally.

He pauses, not used to being interrupted, shakes his head impatiently and agrees, "Yes, Kurama—whatever it likes to call himself—will say whatever it is you want to hear to make a bid for its freedom. But if you remove the seal—"

"Yeah, I figured it'll probably kill me. Or worse," she relates in a lackluster tone, shaking her head with a bit of a shudder. "Having something embedded in your hara burst out all at once sounds like a painful way to go. Only one way that's going to happen, and that's worst case scenario only."

The old man eyes her carefully. "And what exactly is your 'worst case scenario'…?"

Nana sits quietly, frowning at her lap, before looking up with fierce thundercloud eyes. "If some bad people come and try to take Kurama, and I can't fight them… Well, they'll get Kurama alright. A lot more of him than they bargained for." She smiles darkly then, as if imagining the following chaos. Almost as an afterthought, she adds, "Don't worry. I'll try and lead them as far away from the village as possible first. Don't want another rehash of last time, eh…?"

The Hokage is thoughtful for a long moment before speaking, his old, creased eyes locked on hers with an unnamable emotion. And this time, when he speaks, Nana can't help but listen attentively. "…When your mother was little older than you are now, that very situation occurred." He seems to take her in, every feature, from the marks on her face, to the color of her eyes, to the shape of her jaw, as if seeing into the past. "And while suicide is the acceptable solution in a kidnapping scenario where the victim's abduction will harm the village, and she was trained to do as such, she waited. Do you know why?"

Wordlessly—still somewhat stunned, as she'd never heard this story before, or _any_, having to do with either of her 'parents'—Nana shook her head.

"The entire time, she ripped out strands of her hair—very similar to yours—dropping them like breadcrumbs for her comrades to follow." In conclusion, he finished, "Faith in others…is not something to be underestimated, Naruto. That is what saved her."

For a time, Nana can only sit quietly in contemplation. Frowning, she finally says, "It must be nice…to have that sort of faith." She pauses, swallows thickly, and though she tries to keep her face as straight as possible, to not give away the crushing feeling inside, the slightest tremor in her tone gives her away. "But I can count on one finger the number of people who'd put their lives on the line to save mine." Her glazed eyes give _everything_ away as she raises them to meet his almost accusingly, yet her voice is tinged with a resigned acceptance. "Maybe not even that many."

The old Hokage returns her gaze with tired sympathy. He wants to help. But there is only so much he can do. And it kills him slowly to watch. In the end, all he can say is, "There are more people who care about you than you think."

"Really…?" She shakes her head, almost in disgust. "Because I've never seen them."

"Just because you can't see them doesn't diminish the fact that they are there," he persists adamantly, and goes on to say, "And there will be more. I know you, Nana. Let others know you too, no matter how hard it might be to speak out. There will be failures…but every failure is an opportunity, so don't ever give up. Promise me that."

She looks at him balefully. "What is it with you and forcing promises out of me?"

He smiles. "Because I know you can keep them."

That gets a snort out of her. "When they matter."

"When they matter…" he agrees, glad to see her mood lightened, even if only a little. In a more subdued tone, he impresses upon her, "This really is your last chance, Nana. I'm running out of people to teach you. Do your best, and make this time count." He stresses the last, "And at least _try_ to make friends?"

The childish pout her face settles into is almost vindicating. It's not often he sees her act her own age. Finally, after a deliberating pause, she lets out a heavy sigh, and concedes, "Alright, Ojii-chan…it's a promise."

He smiles at her, and inwardly congratulates himself. He must be getting craftier in his old age if he'd managed to convince her _and_ Iruka… Perhaps luck was still with him after all.

* * *

Nana is about ready to panic when she enters the classroom. Sure, she's met people she was unnaturally 'familiar' with before, but never so many at one time. Her first instinct is to back into a corner and barricade herself there, but the two in the back have already been claimed by Shino and Hinata, and she wasn't going to even consider the other two, because who in their right mind sits in the _front_? That's where the _teacher_ lives. In the end, she rushes blindly down one of the clear isles and plants herself down by a window that at least presented the illusion of freedom. She only realizes this is a mistake when she's assaulted by an almost irritatingly bubbly voice.

"Hey, what are _you_ doing here?" Nana twitches, and turns to face a pair of obnoxiously blue, blue eyes. It takes her a minute to separate the abrasive tone and match it up with the purely curious expression to conclude that the girl really wasn't _trying_ to be rude. So it takes her a second to realize that's just how Ino _is_. This, she can accept.

"Transfer," is all she volunteers for explanation to her inquiry.

Ino blinks in surprise, and echos, "Transfer? But isn't it too far into the year already for that? And besides, this is the accelerated class—" She gestures around at all the clan heirs that seemed to have been spontaneously born around the same time. "—won't it be hard for you to catch up?"

Despite herself, Nana offers the girl a wry half-smile. Ino almost sounds concerned. It's actually rather touching. "Nah. I'll figure it out on my own eventually. Don't worry about me."

There came a cynical snort from within a folded pair of arms in the row above them, "Bah. Ino? Worry? More likely she's just being _nosy_ if you ask me…"

"_Nobody asked you!_" she returns earsplittingly in an eruption of fury at the boy who promptly ignores her and goes back to sleep. Or at least he tries. With some imagination, Nana can almost see her head growing three sizes too big and shooting fire out of her nostrils.

As Ino blows up at Shikamaru, Nana attempts to make a taciturn escape, sneakily hopping over the auditorium styled desk with some skillful maneuvering and repeating the process until she's at least put some bodies between her and the shouting girl. At which point she hunkers down far enough so her head can't be seen over the back of the seat, pulling her knees up to her chin with an accomplished little grin lifting the corners of her lips… Then she looks to her right, and her stomach just about drops down to the floor.

A fair-skinned, dark eyed boy is staring at her curiously.

She swallows and attempts some sort of smile that probably ends up looking more like a grimace. "Uh…you mind if I hide here?" She gestures back at the cacophony over her shoulder. "Kinda loud back there…"

The boy blinks, and opens his mouth to say something, but—to her utmost surprise—his cheeks blush an interesting shade of pink, and he just shakes his head furiously, returning to scribbling down some sort of notes without speaking a word. Nana can't help but stare at him in utter bemusement. Sasuke Uchiha…_bashful_? Now she's seen everything. But then…oh.

"_That_ hasn't happened yet…" she murmurs softly, a thoughtful look overcoming her default jaded expression.

"What?" The tentative boy fixes her with a cautious look.

She shakes her head, still shooting him incredulous looks. "Nothing. Just talking to myself. Don't let me bother you. Carry on."

Casting her a doubtful glance, he continues copying something off the board, but then pauses, glances at her hesitantly again, and says, after what seems to be a herculean effort, "You…might want to write this down." At her curious look, he gestures at the board.

Indeed, the instructions do indicate that it should be written down. But with a quick once over of the room, Nana concludes that not a lot of her classmates put much stock into instructions…at all. Really, it seems not even the quiet ones comply to them, too caught up in watching the brewing mayhem Ino—egged on by Kiba—was stirring up at Shikamaru. (Really, the only reason a fight hadn't broken out already is because Shikamaru refuses to humor her). In conclusion, the only one who is really doing what he's supposed to be doing is Sasuke.

And Nana recalls she had made a promise to someone about that…

Withholding a wearisome sigh, Nana drags out a tatty, secondhand notebook and offers the boy a smile. "Thanks for the heads up."

"Yeah…" He turns that interesting color again and ducks his head so that his bangs conceal his face from her, grunting out a, "Whatever."

Looks like someone isn't quite used to being around girls yet. Despite her preconceived notions of the boy, Nana finds it oddly endearing for reasons beyond her understanding. And as she copies down what's on the board, she finds herself thinking about things more deeply than usual. In fact, she normally tries to do the opposite. Thinking about things too hard when you know the future can only lead to bad news. Not to mention, she doesn't _care_. She decided a long time ago that the future is what you make of it. And with that decision made, she also decided that she wanted no part of it. Nana wants to live. And if that includes hiding out in a cave somewhere and waiting out the end of the world, come hell or high water, she is going to _do it_, goddammit.

Now, if she can only stop thinking long enough to implement said plan…

This is somewhat hard to do when you're sitting next to someone you know is about to lose _everything_ they've ever loved—which is just so much worse, because Nana can _sympathize_ with that. She lost her whole _world_—or rather, her world lost _her_; somehow, it's harder to see it that way from her own perspective rather than one who's supposed to be dead. The commitment to 'I will not be a bleeding heart,' which she tried to implement early on is steadily crumbling away beneath her feet. The point is it's easy to be selfish when you're removed from the problem, but when the problem—which just happens to be uncannily easy to identify with—is shoved right in your face?

No. Not so much.

Nana sighs heavily, staring balefully at what she'd just mindlessly copied down, then scowls. Great. Just great. She only recognizes about _half_ of the clumsily written kanji on the page. She tries to pretend she can't feel curious dark eyes—too big for his face—on her, drawn to her obvious irritation. She props her head on her hand, letting the curtain of blood red obscure her intense expression from her observer as she attempts to make sense of the hideous characters from sheer power of will. But no matter how much she silently mouths the characters she _does_ know, twists and turns them in her head to at least get the gist of it, it's just not getting her anywhere. She's at the point where she has to stomp down the urge to howl in frustration when she finally feels her pride cave in on itself, and she violently rips another page out from her notebook, furiously writing something down before passing it abruptly to her oddly bashful neighbor.

_Would you mind writing down the furigana* for these words for me? My kanji teacher walked out on me after the fifth lesson._

_成績_

_宿題_

_勉強して_

_両親_

While Nana attempts to gather up the tattered remnants of her pride, and not bash her own skull in at the thought of not being able to _read_ properly, the boy stares at the note for a long time, as if in disbelief. For a moment, she thinks he's just going to ignore it. She'd almost prefer it that way. She'd never thought of herself as stupid—far from it. She knows for a fact that her head contains more knowledge than every child in this room, nay, the entirety of Konoha, or even the world! Okay…maybe that's going a little too far, but it's the _weight_ of that knowledge that counts. If the information in Nana's head were to get out, the world would go crazy. Sometimes she doesn't know how she managed to stay sane with all of it bouncing around in her brain. But that's okay, because she doesn't suffer alone. And it's not like Kurama's going to tell any of her deep dark secrets.

**As if I got a choice, Brat!** the menacing voice rumbles from her hara.

She twitches slightly, still unused to the mental intrusion. Somehow, she wishes she'd never delved that deep into her spiritual makeup. Maybe poking at the seal was a really bad idea. Scratch that. Definitely a bad idea.

_I'm sorry,_ she says sincerely,_ I wish I could have stopped what happened, but I was sort of an infant at the time… You know, all helpless, and weak, and wrinkly, and not knowing the hell what was going on? Also, you kind of stabbed my parents in the back…literally._

She didn't add that if he had calmed down, and focused on stomping the stupid Uchiha instead of the _village_, things might have gone quite differently for him and everyone else involved.

**I was being ****_controlled_**** by the Uchiha, you ignorant, little snot!** he retorts with a snarl.

_Oh_. She thinks back. _That's right. I forgot._ She then wonders idly if he wouldn't have done the same damned thing, sharingan mind control or not. And then she winces internally as a slow, highly uncomfortable burning erupts in her lower tummy along with a rumbling snarl so loud she's surprised no one else can hear it. _Please stop growling at me_, she begs. _I'm still not used to having no mental privacy. And it's really not fair that it only goes one way…_

**Not fair?! You want to talk to me about ****_not fair_****!?** Nana nearly covers her ears at the booming decibel, but remembers that this is all in her head. There is no volume control on this one.

_Calm down, calm down!_ she urges in what she hopes is a soothing tone and not a pleading one. As a last resort, she sends him some of her memories and impressions of the could-have-been Naruto, and suggests, _it could be worse?_

He goes quiet for a while, examining the offered memories as if inspecting a peace offering, and finally admits in a grudging tone, **Could be worse…** She can sense the beast calm, as a tide of boiling water recedes from where she's standing cemented in a sandy shore. But you give an inch with this one, and you give a mile, and she can't stop him from snatching and reexamining snippets of previous memories she's shared with him. She's been giving them out like treats, as they seem to intrigue him, and distract him from being furious at everything. Finally, he asks her in the most composed, rational tone she's ever heard from him, **Are you going to let them suck me out of you?**

Her usual relenting, cowardly role in their conversations freezes, and then cracks as the loaded question hits her like a pile of bricks. And that's all it narrows down to, isn't it? Her fierce desire to live warring with an even fiercer apathy that grows stronger every day she's alive. Should she fight? Run? Is this world even worth saving? Why put forth the effort of a struggle when no one even cares if you exist or not…? And then she wonders…

_Kurama?_ she asks, almost in a whisper—almost not wanting to know. _What will happen to you if I do?_

He pauses at first, as if completely thrown by the question. Then she hears him snort, as if shifting in his cage to look away from her in disgust. **Who knows, Brat… **He speaks to her with the same amount of scorn as usual, but she can't help but notice a somber twinge hidden in it that is very much unlike him.** I won't die, if that's what you're wondering.** There's a pause as he considers… **But it will probably be worse than dying. After all, now that I've met you, I see that death is merely a change of scenery for humans… **His next pause is heavier than the last one, and he actually lets out a rumbling sigh that shakes the foundations of her mindscape. **Joining with the others…I would probably cease to exist entirely.**

The thought alone causes Nana's stomach to twist in on itself. Thinking about it deeper makes her want to scream and claw at the nonexistent walls closing in around her. Dark. Nothing. Emptiness. No thought. No feeling. _Nothing_. She was so scared when she died.

It's that fear she still remembers so vividly that decides for her.

_I'll protect you, Kurama,_ she says with more confidence than she feels. _For as long as I can._

He snorts again. **You? Protect me? Bah. I've gnawed ****_splinters_**** out of my toes that were bigger than you, Half-pint. What makes you think you can do anything?**

The sound of paper sliding across the desk delays her answer. She looks up to see a very red faced little Uchiha pointedly not looking at her, and a neatly written scrawl written on the back of her notepaper.

_成績—__seiseki* __成—__sei/nari__績—__seki/isao_

_宿題—__shukudai* __宿—__shuku/yado __題—__dai_

_勉強して__—__benkyoshite* __勉—__ben/tsuto/meru__強—__kyou/gou/tsuyoi/kowai_

_両親—__ryoshin* __両—__ryo __親—__oya/shin_

Nana stares down at the note as if it's the key to her survival. Whipping her gaze between it and her personal godsend, she was about to express her gratitude emphatically, but spots his bright red ears beforehand and thinks better of it. So she quickly rips off another piece of her notebook and spells out:

_Thank you! You saved me!_

_If I didn't think you'd spontaneously combust, I'd hug you!_

_—__Nana_

She slides it over, and he stares at it for a second. Nana takes a minute to think about how ridiculous this whole arrangement is when they're sitting right—friggin'—next to each other, but tries not to be too impatient. He's just a kid after all. And, after another second of analyzing the message, he flips it over and writes his own, passing it back without looking at her.

_Anytime._

_And if you didn't have cooties, I'd probably let you._

_—__Sasuke_

She stares at it for a couple of seconds before bursting out laughing. Sasuke Uchiha. Afraid of _cooties._ It's too much. Even for her. She doesn't stop laughing until she realizes the previously noisy classroom has gone completely silent. Even Ino has stopped her ranting. And when she turns her head, it's to see the form of an irritated figure of one who can be none other than Iruka, looking none too pleased with her, his hands planted on his hips.

Oops.

"I swear, I wasn't laughing at you," she tries to explain gravely, as he begins to tap his foot.

She thinks she can see Sasuke's shoulders shaking imperceptibly with suppressed laughter. Iruka rolls his eyes, and ignores her, but that's to be expected, really. And, all in all, as far as first days go…she's had worse. This one even left her with a lingering warmth she hasn't felt in a long time. Something—some_one_ rather—even made her laugh. It wasn't very often she found a person who could do that. And so, for once, she reports to the old man's office with good news instead of being escorted there by whoever had her on their shit list.

"He isn't exactly _nice_, but he seems to be fair, at least. That's more than I can say for most people," she answers to the inquiry about Iruka-sensei. "And he actually seemed _pleased_ when I turned in my homework early. That was until I explained I liked to free up my time for other things… He seemed a bit nervous after that." She pauses thoughtfully, and gives the old man a serious look. "He doesn't think I go around _eating_ people, does he? I'm tiny. Where would they all fit?"

The Hokage seems to choke a bit on his pipe smoke before letting out a strained chuckle. "No, no, I'm sure he doesn't think that. Iruka is new at being a Sensei. Cut him some slack, will you, Nana?"

She considers it for a moment before allowing, "Yeah…okay. He's alright. For now." She lets the conversation lull a bit for the shortest acceptable moment before moving on with a big smile that throws the old man for a moment. "I think I might have made a friend."

"Oh?" He seems thrilled, like she knew he'd be. She hands over the notes she'd kept from class; somehow she couldn't bring herself to toss 'em. They made her smile when she looked at them.

"Sasuke helped me figure out the kanji, but when I used his key to work out the notes from the board, it's just a message Iruka had us copy down for parents. So I figured you'd do. It's just as well." She shrugs half-heartedly. "Report cards are coming out soon. I'm probably going to get called Zero again," she sighs.

But he's still looking down at the notes she had exchanged with the boy, and frowning deeply for some reason. When she tilts her head at him, he looks up as if just realizing she was still sitting there. "Sorry…" He shakes his head distractedly. "When you're old like me, you lose your train of thought sometimes."

She crosses her arms and sends him a doubtful look. "You're not fooling me, Ojii-chan. You're just using your age as a convenient excuse." She grins wryly at him. "You're the 'Professor.' And the Professor doesn't _get_ senile. It's just not going to happen."

He blinks at her once in surprise, but eventually lets out a tired chuckle, shaking his head at her antics. "You're too smart for your own good. Not much gets past you, eh, Nana?"

"No_p_e," she returns, giving him an expectant look, as if to say, _now spill all your dirty secrets_.

He sighs. "While I'm glad you have so much faith in me…I'm not quite so sure others feel the same."

She frowns, and concludes bluntly, "Well that means they're a bunch of useless morons. You should fire them."

He gives her that tired chuckle again, and answers wistfully, "If only it were that simple."

"…Politics?" she ventures grimly.

He nods, eying her precious notes again with a solemn gleam to his creased eyes. When next he speaks, his tone is veiled, neutral. Nana can't tell what he's after, and that puts her on edge. "Tell me. This Sasuke doesn't happen to be an Uchiha, does he?"

"…Yes. Probably," she answers, eying him carefully for facial cues. For the first time, he is completely unreadable. She begins to comprehend for the first time just how _good_ of a ninja he is. And that's scary. This conversation is scary. But she swallows, and dares to ask, "…Is that a problem?"

"Not specifically, no," he answers pleasantly enough, though the calculating gleam in his eye tells a different story. "Although…"

She waits, then prompts, "Although…?"

He seems as if he's deliberating something, that calculating gleam still shooting her warning signals. Finally, he says, "Tensions are running a bit high with the Uchiha clan at the moment. I'm not entirely sure what your presence—given your 'unique' condition—would mean for all those…politics. It could turn into something quite…ugly."

With a sudden violent pang, she thought she knew _exactly_ what he meant by 'ugly.' She wondered if he could see the color leave her face. "…Oh," she whispered.

"On the other hand," he stares at her ponderously, as if considering the pieces on a shougi board, "it may actually _help_ matters. You see the dilemma."

She nods slowly. "You know…I gotta say, I don't think I _ever_ want your job."

For the first time, he lets out a true laugh. Then he says, "Sometimes, I think that's exactly the kind of leader this village needs—someone who never wanted to be a leader in the first place."

She can feel her eyes widen comically, holding her hands in front of her like a shield, "Don't look at me! I'm _eight_, remember!?"

He laughs again, shaking his head at her. "Yet, half the time, I feel like I'm speaking with one of my own comrades. Why is that, I wonder?"

She freezes up for a moment, and tries to diffuse the situation. He was getting a little too close to the truth for comfort. "Uh…because I'm disrespectful and don't know when to shut up?"

"No…" He seems as if he's turned her into a puzzle and is examining all the pieces before trying to put her together. "No, Nana, I think you just might be a genius in disguise." He goes on to elaborate, "You've always been a clever girl, ever since you were born. You hardly ever cried. Always so quiet—watching, learning. And then when you spoke, it was in full sentences, as if you had been practicing in secret for months."

Rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly, she shrugs her shoulders. "I wanted to surprise you. Besides, all that baby talk was kind of disgusting—though I appreciated the effort."

"You realize most can't even remember that far back," he points out.

She eyes him meaningfully. "I remember everything."

"I know you do," he nods. "And I still remember your story about the masked man. Though I fear I can't officially put credence into the recollections of an infant, no matter how much I trust you, Nana."

"But you've looked into it," she deduces.

He nods. "I've consulted several resources, and no one has encountered a man of his description before…"

"—and lived to tell about it," she finishes dryly.

"Also feasible…" he nods gravely. "That could very well be the case."

"You believe me, don't you?" she stresses suddenly. "I wouldn't just make something like this up."

"I know that, Nana. It's not like you to—"

"And if my presence has any effect on how people view the Uchiha, then it _has_ to have something to do with that night, hasn't it? The night I was born," she concludes abruptly, shocking herself with the amount of emotion she felt stirring in her chest—even though it's none of her business—and somehow she ends up shouting. "_It wasn't their fault!_ They shouldn't have to take the fall for something that was completely out of their—"

"_Naruto_." The old man's tone brokered no argument. His face was made out of stone, just like the statue on the mountain. "That's enough."

Feeling her lower lip trembling, dangerously close to tears, she bowed her head shamefully, and repeated softly, almost a whimper, "It wasn't their _fault_…"

After a long, tense silence, the Hokage finally speaks. "I believe you. But it's going to be a long time before I can gather enough evidence to convince the others…"

She looks at him through glazed eyes, half hidden through streaks of messy red. She quietly demands, "_How_ _long_…?"

He looks at her grimly as if he knows exactly what she's asking. Still, his only reply is: "As long as it takes."

A dark feeling of helplessness nearly overcomes her. She knows exactly what he means too. _Too long_. There just wasn't enough time. She clenches her hand tightly, digging half-moons into the skin of her palms at the thought.

_Time_.

With that one word, like a pulse, an idea conceives, spreading itself out in vibrant colors over her psyche like a giant, splat of paint, gripping her like the tentacles of an octopus. Her eyes widen a fraction, and she isn't sure if the old man caught it or not. She hopes not. Or if he did, she hopes he ignores it.

"Yeah…" she says finally. "Okay. I trust you."

**You ****_do_****?** comes the dubious rumble of her unsolicited tenant.

Inwardly, she slowly smirks. _Just watch, Kurama. I'll show you a splinter you won't soon forget._

**What are you jabbering on about now, Brat?** the beast snorts dismissively.

_I've got a plan_, she affirms, a new determination overcoming her better judgement.

The fox lets out a noise she takes to be some sort of long-suffering groan. She thinks he's being a little bit too dramatic. Besides, it's not like _all_ her plans end horribly.

**I beg to differ**, he retorts vehemently. **I was there the last time, you know. Just what exactly do you think you're trying to prove?**

_That my existence actually holds _some_ meaning_, she replies flatly.

The beast hesitates, just a moment, before scoffing at her cynically. **Whatever you're thinking about trying won't work… But I'll bite. What are you going to do, Pipsqueak?**

She thinks carefully, then muses, almost to herself, _Something really stupid_.

**That's not surprising**, he snorts. **And then?**

…_Probably something insane_.

**Also unsurprising, considering I've seen what the inside of your head looks like…** he sighs, rattling the inner prison. **If you're going to go out, do it with a bang, Kid.**

Her eyes widen again as another idea blossoms into fruition, like a firework. This time, she can't help the anticipant smile that slowly spreads across her face.

The old man, who watched her during this entire inner conversation, deduces aptly, "You're speaking with the beast."

"He gives surprisingly good advice," she nods an affirmative.

**This is slander.**

"When he's not growling at me…" she amends darkly.

She's rewarded with a snarl.

"He likes to pretend to be all tough, and devil-may-care…" she adds with a slight smirk. "But I think he cares a lot more than he lets on. He's ruthless if there's something he sets out to do. God help you if you get in his way."

**Stop talking about me like I'm not here.**

"Sounds like someone I know…" he eyes her closely. "I just hope she knows what she's getting herself into."

"All you need is someone to stall for time, right?" she asks abruptly, done with all the pretense. "I can do that. I'm really good at that. I'm the _best_ at that." She doesn't smile, because she isn't joking. "I'll make a lot of noise somewhere else, and keep all the bigwigs running around like chickens with their heads cut off while _you_ get that evidence. As long as everything's gone crazy, nobody knows what's going on. Nobody knows what's going on, nobody knows how to make a move, yeah?"

"This isn't a game for little kids, Naruto," he warns her grimly.

"I don't play games," Nana returns, her eyes aglow with a burning determination he recognizes for a flash of an instant. "But when I do, I _always_ win. No exceptions."

"No exceptions…?" he echoes.

"None," she affirms.

After a moment in which he makes a very hard decision—to keep the girl's childhood intact, or to test her untapped potential to its limits—he finally closes his eyes. "I can't ask you to officially undertake this mission…" He pauses, before opening his eyes again and becoming the Hokage who lived, fought, and waged three world wars. "But should you feel so inclined, a lot of people would deeply appreciate it if you could keep the game going for as long as possible."

Nana smiled.

Within the next week, fifteen different officials had woken up with itching powder in their clothing, and someone had seen fit to give the Hokage faces actual color; special care had been taken with the Third and the Fourth, and, somehow, the First's dour stone countenance had been transformed into something positively _bubbly_ as the effigy _beamed_ out over the populace. The citizens marveled at it; less so for the actual paint job than the fact that _no one_ in a village full of actual _ninjas_ could figure out who in the fiery blazes of _hell_ had done it. Most laughed it off. After all, it's not really hurting anything to have a little color added to everyone's lives… Or so they thought.

It's only the beginning.

* * *

*A hara is basically located around your midriff. It's not exactly the physical organ, but more like an energy field type thing. It's where your 'ki' comes from, or your 'chakra,' or whatever you want to call that spiritual energy bullshit that comprises all that ninja loveliness called ninjutsu. This is also where Kurama is sealed and where Naruto's seal appears when he (in this case, _she_) uses chakra. It's also probably the dark leaky prison where Naruto's mindscape is located. Sooo…using that logic, somehow the mindscape is technically located in your stomach… Odd. Just a thought.

**So, something everyone should also know:

Japanese has three alphabets or, if you want to be technical about it, _syllabaries_, with syllables all ending in either (あ) 'ah,' (い) 'ii,' (う) 'o-o-o,' (え) 'eh,' (お) 'oh,' and a singular (ん) 'nn' sound that can be tacked on at the ends of them in certain cases. As in Ra(n), Ri(n), Ru(n), Re(n), Ro(n); Ka(n), Ki(n), Ku(n), Ke(n), Ko(n), and so on and so on. Recognize anything yet? (That's romaji, by the way. Japanese sounds/words written in English/German/French/etc., letters. It's what you read in fanfiction, when authors aren't being weebs like me.)

More importantly, there's Hiragana (47 characters), Katakana (also 47 characters), and Kanji (which borrows from Chinese and has over **200** characters). Katakana is mostly used in foreign words/names (and a lot of the main characters' names in Naruto, incidentally, for reasons unknown to me), Hiragana is used in a lot of native words for which there are no Kanji, and Kanji is used in many words as well (can't read anything without at least some knowledge of it!). Basically, they're comprised of a couple of alternating syllables depending on what word it's used in. Some sound the same, but are completely different in meaning depending on what kanji you use. Confusing, right? Yeah, so, for young kids who are still learning, and on a few other less used kanji, furigana is implemented—which is basically just tiny hiragana scribbled in next to the kanji that help with pronouncing the word.

So there's your crash course. Most of you are probably confused beyond all measure, but don't worry! Foreign languages are a pretty complex subject, and I suck at explaining things! So take it with a grain of salt. This is just my understanding of it, and I am definitely not a native speaker or in any way accomplished or fluent. I only took two four-week courses at summer camp! Do—not—quote—me! I will not be held responsible for misinformation!

***Translations:

Ojii-chan: Come on now, most of you know this one already. GRANDPA! Or old man. Informal, because of the 'chan' tacked on at the end. Geez... If you needed to know that, you must be new to anime-based fanfiction. Welcome to the internet. Sorry, but I will NOT be your guide. (Well, maybe if you ask nicely).

成績—seiseki: grades/progress reports

宿題—shukudai: homework

勉強して—benkyoshite: study!

両親—ryoshin: parents

All that other stuff was basically Sasuke dividing it up kanji by kanji and explaining what kind of sounds and meanings they have for Nana. Nice of him, yeah? (Again, take this with a grain of salt. There are probably a lot more sounds and meanings for these kanji. I'm just lazy and don't feel like looking for all of them. Go google it if you're that interested, why don't you?)


End file.
